Pink
by Lil' Ms. I-Like-Girls
Summary: I'm more me than any Quinn I have ever been, more than I have ever dreamt of wanting to be. I was free and I was loving it. Reinvention was a beautiful thing. But I soon realized that falling in love was so much sweeter. FaBerry
1. Prologue

**Howdy ya'll. I'm new to writing for the FaBerry scene so I only ask that you be gentle with me for now while I get the feel for these characters. XD **

**I really shouldn't be starting a new story. Its one more story than I really need right now but I took an idea and ran like hell with it. So why not?**

**This is just a prologue to the story, but mostly its a trial run to see how it does and to get your opinions. **

**Review if you like it. I certainly won't deny you the right. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Pink<p>

My father once told me that if you can't get by in life Quinnie, then you have to shove your way through.

At age five, I had no idea what he meant by that but just took his words as truth and skipped happily away. I never questioned my father's words, or his actions, or his beliefs, because he was my daddy and he promised he would never lie to me. But most five year olds are curious little things. Always asking questions, always wanting answers, like _why is the sky blue,_ and _why don't fish have legs like us_, _why are vegetables good for me when they taste icky_? I wasn't that normal five year old apparently. I didn't ask questions. I stood by and watched everyone ask them for me.

So instead of asking Momma why Daddy hit her, I stayed quiet and played with my toys. Children are painfully honest. Its in their nature to question everything and seek answers.

Not me.

When I saw my mother's face one Sunday morning as we were getting ready to leave for church, and was delicately applying a heavy layer of foundation to the corner of her eye, wincing every now and then, I didn't ask where it came from.

Because apart of me already knew.

I had been such a good little girl up until my sixth birthday party. It was a beautiful birthday. My mother had let me wear a small coat of blush on my cheeks to make them rosy and happy and I watched her in the mirror as she did hers.

My mother was beautiful. Like a queen, I had thought. She would smile at me every so often and I would smile at her happily. Grandma always said I was a spitting image of her when she was my age. Hearing that had made me very happy. I wanted to be as beautiful as she is one day. When she was done getting ready, Momma picked me up and carried me downstairs telling me what a big girl I was and that I was turning into such a beautiful young lady. I giggled at that, because she was trying to sound like when grandpa talked, all deep and britishy.

I had never been to british. I hear its nice there.

Daddy came out of his study with the newspaper in his hands, folding it. I shouted excitedly for him and my mother put me down, with a sad smile. I didn't ask and ran to him with my arms outstretched. He smiled and picked me up, positioning me at the side of his hip. He tickled me and asked me what day it was. I gasped and scolded him. He should know perfectly well what day it was. He laughed and poked me saying of course he knew, I was the birthday girl after all. I smiled happily at this and hugged him. He hugged back and then set me down. I bounced around the house excitedly and helped my mother set up for the party. Everything was princess themed. The backyard was transformed into a magical fairyland and the round picnic tables were set up to look like a tea party. Flowers were everywhere. It was beautiful. I hugged my mother and thanked her for bringing the fairytales here. She smiled and told me only the best for her little princess. I giggled and she told me I could go play until my friends got here. I skipped inside and ran up to my room and played with my Barbies. Awhile later the door bell rang and I nearly fell down the stairs in my haste. My mother scolded me for running in the house but I wasn't paying attention to her and latched on the large golden knob in my tiny hand and wrenched it open. A taller blonde and a short tanned girl smiled at me and both wished me a happy birthday. I grinned and hugged them both. I ushered them in and they followed. The three of us ran outside and play-pretended tea party with the nice tiny tea cups Momma had gotten me.

We played for a little while until the door bell rang and I burst from my seat, nearly knocking the chair in the grass. I grinned happily when I had made it to the door without my mother getting after me for running in the house again. I bounced on the spot, turned the knob and swung the door wide.

A tanned girl smiled at me and held up a beautifully wrapped pink box with a white silk ribbon tied on top. I looked up at the tall men standing behind her and waved at them excitedly. They chuckled and waved back. I knew who the girl was and grabbed the present and put it down by the floor by my feet and pulled the girl in for a hug. She hugged me tightly and smiled widely. I liked her smile. It was pretty.

'Quinnie, what have I told you about answering the door when I'm not there—oh. Who have we here?' Momma bent down and smiled at the smaller girl in my arms. The girl smiled and I pointed at her.

'This is Rachel, Momma. She's my friend.' Momma grinned and held out her hand.

'Well its nice to meet you Rachel.' Said Momma. Rachel smiled prettily again and held out her tiny hand.

'Hello Mrs. Fabray. I'm Rachel Barbra Berry and it's a pleasure to meet you.' Momma laughed and took her small hand in her larger one and shook it.

'Likewise, darling.' Momma smiled and looked at the two men by the door. 'She's absolutely precious.' The men laughed.

"Oh, we know. She's as precious as she is strong willed so I'm afraid you may have yourself a handful today.' The darker man said with a kind smile. Momma chuckled and pointed her thumb at me.

'Trust me. I've had plenty of practice with this one over here.' I pouted because I didn't know what they were saying but I knew that they were talking about me and Rachel. I didn't like it and hugged Rachel tighter to me.

'Momma can we go play now?' I asked impatiently while the grown ups talked for a moment longer.

Momma nodded. 'Of course, darling. Go on ahead.' That was all the encouragement I needed and I pulled Rachel with me and ran outside.

Once we made it outside, Rachel and I smiled at the two girls sitting next to each other who were entertaining themselves with the taller blonde's stuffed duck, as they fed it cookies and 'tea' from the tea cups.

'Can we play with you guys?' I asked, sitting down at the table.

'Yes!' the blonde said.

'No.' the tanned girl said.

I smiled at the blonde and then scowled at the other girl.

'Rachel you came!' the blonde clapped and bounced excitedly in her seat.

Rachel smiled. 'Yes I did. Hello Brittany .'

'Hi Rachel!' Brittany bounced and waved.

I giggled at Brittany's excitement.

Rachel looked at the other girl. 'Hello Santana. How are you doing today?'

'Ask me later when you're not here.' Santana replied with her tiny arms crossed in front of her, looking away from Rachel grumpily.

Rachel frowned. 'But how can I ask you if I'm not-'

Rachel was cut off by a loud crash from inside the house. There was yelling. It sounded like Daddy. I've never heard Daddy that mad. Brittany looked scared and she was whimpering a little. Santana looked worried. There was more arguing and another man was yelling. Rachel gasped and shot up from her seat. I tried to grab her but she slipped from my grasp and ran to the house. I shot a fearful glance to Santana and Brittany and chased after her.

'Rachel wait!' I finally caught her around the waist and pulled her towards me. I put a finger to my lips telling her to be quiet as we crept cautiously to our parents. We watched as the yelling got worse.

'How dare you come into my house you filthy perverts!' Daddy yelled angrily. He looked…wrong. His eyes were staring funny as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

Momma looked horrified at what Daddy said and made to calm him down. 'Don't do this Russell. There is no reason to raise your voice at them.'

Daddy shot a glare at Momma. "No reason? No _reason_! I don't want their filth in _my_ house. That's all the reason I need.' He aimed his glare at the men by the door. The shorter of the two stood a little behind the taller man, while the taller brown man raised his chin and stared at Daddy dead on.

Momma walked up to him and whispered lowly. 'This is your daughter's sixth birthday. Don't ruin it. You're making a scene.' She hissed.

'Don't tell me what to do, woman! This is still my house; therefore my rules. And my rule is no fags allowed!'

'Daddy?' A small voice said. The whole room whipped their heads around in our direction. I held Rachel's hand as we slowly made our way closer to them. 'What's going on?'

Daddy didn't say anything but was focused on Rachel and I's clasped hands. His nostrils flared and Momma flicked her eyes uneasily from our hands to Daddy.

'Get out of my house. Get out! Get out! _GET OUT! _And take your disgusting spawn of sin with you!' Daddy bellowed. Daddy pointed angrily at Rachel and Rachel tried to shrink away from his fiery gaze and whimpered behind me. I stood confusedly and stared at my Daddy in shock. Why was he being so mean?

'What are you doing Daddy? Why are you yelling?'

Daddy looked scary and stumbled in our direction. My eyes widened when he made to grab Rachel. I pushed her further behind me and told her to run. But before he could get a hold of either one of us, Daddy was tugged by the darker man and socked in the face and Daddy went down with a thud.

I screamed.

'Russell!'

'Leroy no!'

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><p><strong>Like I said its only the prologue. More will be explained in time, mostly through flashbacks and little hint here and there. So tell me what you think so far and I'll get back to ya with chapter 2. Thanks for reading! XD<strong>


	2. Going Out With A Bang

**Whoo! Two updates in one day. Blimey. I think I may be onto something. lol. **

**Thanks so much to all that reviewed, favorited, story alerted, and reading and just liking what you saw. You're amazing! XD**

**I probably won't update until after season 3 starts up. I'm too excited to see what Quinn looks like! *gushes* \**

**Anyways. Babbling! Moving on. =3**

**Enjoy everyone!**

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><p><em>I believe that one defines oneself by reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. To cut yourself out of stone. -Henry Rollins<em>

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><p><strong>Roughly 12 years later…<strong>

Its September.

I hate September.

Its September and that means that school will be starting up again in a week. As much as I loathed that institution I can't help but be a little antsy for Monday to get here already.

But know that that will be the only time you hear me say that.

Ever.

But sometimes bad things happen to good people…well decent, semi-civil individuals like myself.

But this year felt different. I felt different.

All my life I have been somebody else. Someone else living for someone else. It was like a never ending circle. Get here to go there. Never stopping. Sylvester made sure of that. A 15 mile run was her way of welcoming us back from our weekend every Monday morning. 4:15 on the fucking dot.

I loved running.

I hated running _for her_.

But I was the good little robot and played my part. The perfect Cheerio captain and an even better queen. And by _better queen,_ I mean I was a royal bitch. I know this. I'd be mental not to admit it. But I didn't care. It was my time to shine and I'd be damned if I was going to let anyone walk over Quinn Fabray. I got enough of that at home. I didn't need it here. McKinley High was my play ground. My kingdom. And no one messed with Quinn fucking Fabray, unless they wanted to get smited down like the hand of God!

I'm intense. I know this. But it's how I operate. Or rather _used_ to operate.

But that all changed once _she_ came along. My little angel.

God I loved-_love_ her so much. I miss her…

Ugh!

Don't think about that now Fabray. Tears are bad, remember.

You're right.

Yes, I am.

Ass.

Yourself.

Anyways, I ended up becoming a 16 year old statistic and it pretty much went downhill from there. Pregnant and homeless. Russell was too ashamed of his Jezebel daughter to think of what her living conditions and her health might be like once he threw his pregnant daughter out on the street. I wasn't even able to pack anything. All I got was Russell shouting whore in my face and pushing me out of his house and slamming the door in my face.

Heh. That was Daddy.

The rest of the year was a drama fest. My fault though but still, I try not to dwell on it. For obvious reasons.

But this year is different. It's the end of high school. The end of the reign of Quinn Fabray and I couldn't be happier.

So I might as well go out with a bang, right?

My thoughts exactly.

So first things first, I took back what I took for granted.

My body. It was mine. The only one I had and I was determined to take care of it. My way. Not Sue fucking Sylvester's way. Mine.

So I ran. I ran a lot.

I ran, not because I was ordered to and not because it was expected of me to stay fit or because I had something to prove. I ran because I wanted to. I _felt_ like it. I liked the adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood and setting a unique tempo in my heart, making it dance like an excited animal in my chest.

I was addicted to the rush. I was addicted to this new perspective in my life. The care-free feeling I had discovered for the first time. But I can admit I was becoming a little greedy. I didn't want this new thrilling feeling to end. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed _something_.

So I didn't stop at running. I signed up at the local rec center for self defense classes and kick boxing lessons. My mother was bewildered at my request for lessons, and asked me what was the reason for the sudden desire to do this. I shrugged.

'For the same reason you're asking. You wouldn't expect me to ask for it.' I told her simply. My mother raised an eyebrow at me. She paused for a moment, breathing deeply once and finally nodding.

I was in.

The classes weren't as rigorous as I first thought when I signed up. Though, it could have something to do with the fact that I wasn't out of shape either. Thankfully, that changed after a few weeks. The classes were getting more challenging and they demanded more of my body than I had expected. Once I realized this I smiled, knowing this is exactly what I was waiting for: the opportunity to push myself harder, to test myself and give my all. I was loving it. I needed this.

But there was still something amiss. There was something that was waiting to be discovered, that I had yet to yearn for.

I was proud with my progress so far, and the blossoming results to my body. I was toned before the classes sure, but never to this degree. My barely there six pack was now obvious and pebbled down my abdomen, and my oblique's benefited to. At least it's not gross looking. Well, for my body type anyway. I didn't need any more definition than this. I wasn't planning on pursuing a spot on the Cherrios again or any other sport for that matter so I wouldn't have a use for the results for my new physique. Though, I can't deny that being able to flex my biceps and triceps and seeing that satisfying bulge of muscle left me feeling powerful. I felt strong. I had a stature that spoke for itself, that I was _not_ to be fucked with. I already had the attitude that struck fear in my former victims, now I had the body too.

But that's not what this was about. This wasn't about eliciting terror in the weak hearted and climbing the social ladder. Not anymore. This was about me. This was about finding the new me. The new Quinn and maybe rediscovering a little bit of the old Quinn along the way. The Quinn that could have had a chance if her father wasn't towering over her, scrutinizing every decision and over analyzing every microscopic twitch in search of something to get angry about. A flaw was a sin in Russell's eyes. A sin that rightfully encouraged punishment. A punishment that Russell was all too eager to dish out, it didn't matter what state of mind he was in. Angry. Drunk. Hating the world and hating his life and ultimately his family. Blaming his problems on money and his wife. It didn't matter to Russell Fabray if the only ones dealing with the consequences of his actions, his anger, was his family.

Wounds healed.

Scars, however, are a different story entirely.

And as I stand tall, posed, and naked in only my panties, observing the amazing results of the classes in my vanity mirror, I smile proudly. I was finally doing it. I was finally in control of my own person, not Russell. To hell with Russell. He could burn for all I cared. I wasn't that frightened little girl anymore. He couldn't scare her into submission anymore. He couldn't whisper in her ear any longer; telling her how her flaws over shadowed any greatness she could have let shown through, if she was only given the chance.

Because the truth was…Russell killed Lucy Fabray. Killed her dead. Lucy was never good enough for her daddy. But maybe Quinn had a chance to outshine Lucy in ways that she was never afforded. Maybe Quinn could prove Russell Fabray how wrong he was for over estimating her. _Me_. Me? No, not me.

What became of me after Lucy was put to sleep is a phenomenon I like to call Quinn 1.0. If anything Quinn 1.0 only became more obedient. After years of doing everything wrong and a slap in the face for her efforts, losing the weight, her braces andacne, Quinn 1.0 finally felt like she was doing something right. She felt satisfied with how she looked.

Then those fluffy feelings got shot to hell and then backed over by a semi truck.

Just take one guess.

Yup, Russell.

The truth was I never asked for the nose job. It never occurred to me to even get one at that age. I mean, I wasn't ashamed of my nose. I thought it looked fine. But Russell thought different. Russell said I needed it. And 'Daddy' would never lie to me, he told me.

'You want to be pretty don't you, Quinnie Bear?' He asked me one Wednesday night while Momma was at her book club meeting. I looked away from my program and looked at him oddly.

'Um…I guess so.'

He walked over to the love seat I was on and sat closely to me. He faced his body to me and slung his arm over the back of the couch, his hand twirling locks of my blonde hair around his finger, his thumb occasionally caressing the nape of my neck. I felt chills for some reason.

'Then maybe its best for you if you go see a doctor to take care of this.' He tapped my nose and smiled tightly at me.

I frowned and put a hand to my nose. Why would a doctor need to see it? What was wrong with it?

'I don't understand.' I said confused.

'It's ugly, Quinnie.'

I gasped. I felt like crying. Tears stung the back of my eyes and I felt the burn in my nose.

'I-it is?' I held my nose tighter. Oh my gosh. I was hideous, I thought. Momma always told me I was beautiful. Did she lie?

He gave me a fake sympathetic look and nodded. 'Yes it is my child. But Daddy will fix it and make everything better. Don't you worry.' He got up and kissed my forehead. He left me alone to cry wretchedly in my hands, the TV completely forgotten in favor of bawling my eyes out.

Not even a month later, I had the procedure. And Quinn 1.0 was born. All hale Queen Bitch.

I shook myself out of the dark. That was a bad time, sure. But that was in the past. This was my time. Not his. And certainly not Sue Sylvester's.

My body was mine. To treat however I wanted. I could eat what I wanted, sleep when I wanted instead of passing out at 4 in the afternoon from pure exhaustion due to my pregnancy. I could do with my body whatever I liked and that idea was freeing to me. It was mine to do with what I wanted and if I wanted to get an obscure tattoo on my back then so fucking be it.

I examined myself in the mirror again. That's actually not a bad idea. I smiled.

Ha! It was my choice. I finally had a choice.

And I was going to make sure that no matter what happened, whether my decision turned out to be the most asinine plan of all time, worse than what Finn puts out, then at least it was mine and I was the one finally calling the shots.

I was free.

And I was loving it.

I ran my fingers through my short blonde hair, rattling the strands a little. I puffed my cheeks and blew out a breath. I dare say that I'm halfway there.

But not quite.

I surveyed my room, taking in the basket of laundry I had yet to fold. I tilted my head to side, my attention focused on the pink sun dress that hadn't made it completely in the basket.

It was a pretty dress. But it was like all my other ones. Pretty. Feminine. Appropriate. Boring. But not me.

I sighed and frowned at my reflection.

It's a pretty pink though.

I pursed my lips and shook my hair again until I had reached an appropriate level of wild and crazy.

Perfect.

I bit my lip and drummed my fingers on my scalp. It still needs something. It needs…

"Quinnie! Phone for you."

"I got it!"

I grab the phone off the hook and put it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Whats up, Q?"

Santana.

I smirked and looked at my almost nude reflection. "Standing naked in front of my mirror. You?"

A pause. "I'm sorry wanna run that by me again, loca?"

I giggled. "You heard me."

"I heard. I'm just making sure _you_ heard what you said."

"I did. Don't worry. I'm blonde not brain damaged."

"That last parts debatable."

I roll my eyes.

"Yeah well my 4.0 GPA says differently."

"And you never let me forget it. Bitch." She chuckles.

"Love you too."

"So what _are_ you doing? Besides fondling your lady bits, that is."

I laughed and poked my breast. "That's pretty much it."

A pause. "Okay. Who are you and what have you done with my pressed lemon?"

I frowned at the pressed lemon bit but shrug it off. This _is_ Santana I'm talking to, after all.

"She's fondling herself in the mirror." I joke. A pause. "I'm kidding! Jeeze."

"Well how am I supposed to know that? You don't talk to me all summer and when we do talk you hang up abruptly with a bullshit excuse ten minutes later."

"But we did talk." I point out. She growls.

"Missing the point here, Q."

I sigh. "I'm sorry for not calling you. There. Happy?"

"Immensely. Now you can make it up to me and Britts tomorrow. I'm due for a new pair of shoes asap!"

"But you just got yourself a new pair of shoes last week. _That_ you did tell me."

"So. You say this like it should have meaning."

I lightly bonk my forehead, eyes widened incredulously. "I know. Whatever was I thinking?"

"How am I supposed to know? You're blonde. Didn't know you knew how to use that pink thing between your ears." She snickers at her joke.

"Don't be too proud of yourself. In a way, you kinda just insulted Brittany and _her_ pink thing." I giggled and ran my fingers through my blonde hair again. I made my way to the basket on my bed and glanced at the pink dress hanging out of it.

Pink between your ears…

"Shut your hole, Fabray! I wasn't-"

"That's it!" I shrieked.

"Ow! Fuck. Why are you yelling?"

"I need your help." I tell her urgently.

"No, you need _professional_ help, mija."

"No, I really need your help with something." I say seriously. She's quiet for a second.

"Okay. What's up?"

I grin. "Does your mom make house visits?" I bit my lip and crossed my fingers. Her mother was an amazing stylist. If anyone could give me the look I wanted, it was her.

"Um…what?"

"Never mind. I'll tell you tomorrow when we go shopping for my new wardrobe." I said excitedly. Fuck. I was nearly there. I could feel it!

"You mean for _my _shoes. No one said anything about shopping for your white ass."

"Yes well, momma needs herself a new look." I smirked evilly. "and you're gonna help me."

"Come again, pressed lemon?"

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><p>I think that went well. Santana's probably checking her caller ID to make sure she <em>is<em> actually talking to the right person.

XD

Anywhoosy. Let me know whatcha think in a review. Feed my ego! lol.


	3. Funky Flamingo

**Alright folks! I come bearing an update. Whoo! **

**The next chapter should be when school finally starts. More flashbacks on the way and possibly (maybe) some FaBerry. Hopefully. ;D**

**Now for those of you who haven't figured it out yet, 'Flashbacks' will be explained as looking like 'this'. Where as present dialogue looks like "this"**

**Did I confuse people? Sorry.**

**I prefer that way of doing it so I didn't have to mess with italics. Italics can be a tricky bastard when you have it designated for more than one thing. Well for me that is. :)**

**Well anyways...**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>I know I need something, because the grind is just burning me out. ~Henry Rollins<em>

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><p>My mom is going to kill me.<p>

She's going to throttle me like a chicken, sobbing all the while and make me feel guilty like only my mother can.

And _then_ she's going to kill me.

I'm so dead.

I look hot, but that won't mean shit if she murders me.

But yeah…wow.

Okay I guess I should explain huh?

See. It all started with an epiphany. A brilliant, albeit reckless epiphany.

Well going back three weeks from now, I had suddenly gotten the idea that it sure would be swell to modify my body in some way. Pushups weren't going to cut it this time. Holes would work right? So I thought hey Quinn why not get a piercing? Its what most rebellious teenagers are doing. Plus Russell never let me get one. I asked for my 14th birthday to get a second ear piercing next to the one on the bottom and he nearly had a shit fit. He kept spewing scripture and telling me that I was on my way to looking like _those_ children. He never quite explained to me who 'those' children were and what was so wrong with them that they had to be emphasized with so much disdain. But anyways, I decided to get a piercing. Where on my body would this piercing take place? Well I'm so glad you asked because not even a minute later I had thought of the perfect place.

My nose. Or well Russell's nose, if you want to be technical. And now that I think about it wouldn't it be like defacing private property?

…hmmm….Don't know. Don't care.

So being perfectly legal and full of my new outlook on life yada yada yada I thought to hell with it and researched the nearest tattoo parlor. I mean most of them did piercings right?

Yeah I was fairly new to the whole rebellion thing.

So that same day I grabbed breakfast on the way out, kissed my mother goodbye, telling her I'd be back in a few hours. She gave me a look but said nothing and nodded her head. I looked away from her and slung my arms in the sleeves of my hoodie, donned my new shades and chucked my car keys in my purse on the way out the door. I had a little pep in my step which I can't say I've done very often (or at all) and got in my car. The tattoo parlor was downtown as per the directions from the MapQuest I printed out. It was a little difficult to find only because of its size. It was tucked away between a deli market and a little café. But its store front was so…normal, I nearly missed it. It wasn't grungy looking or shady in any way. Huh.

_Its clean_, I thought as I strode in the parlor, the little bell ringing cheerfully, alerting someone of my entry.

I took a look around the store for a few minutes, inspecting all the photos of previous tattoo work and other freehanded tattoo art. I was impressed. And a little envious of the photos of tattooed body parts.

I've always wanted a tattoo. Years ago, I had entertained the idea of getting one once I had moved out from under my father's thumb. But I knew deep down that it would never happen. I would be too scared of the possibility of my father finding out about it.

But I'm not under his thumb anymore. And I'm 18 now and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me. I can already hear the sinister laughter echoing in my head as I smiled at the perfect tattoo for me on the wall.

'Can I help you?' A voice asked from behind me. I jumped, snapping quickly out of my thoughts. The pretty brunette chuckled. 'Sorry. Di'n't mean to startle you or nothin'.' I shook my head and smiled.

"No you're fine. Just got caught up in my thoughts I guess.'

She smiles and looks me over, lingering for a moment longer than was probably deemed appropriate on my chest. I lifted an eyebrow.

She finally looks at me and smiles. 'So's there anythin' I can do you for today?'

'Yes actually there is. I was hoping I could get a nose piercing.'

She cocks her hip to the side and holds her hand there. 'Really? Huh. Coulda swore you for a tatter.' She said surprised.

I looked at her confused. 'A what?'

'Well you were smiling like crazy at the picture on the wall. I figured you were gonna get a tat.' She smirks, leaning her side on the wall with her arms folded.

I ducked my head, hiding my blush behind my wild blonde hair. Why was I blushing?

'Um no. I mean I'm not sure. I um…'

'First timer?'

I smile around a grimace. 'That obvious huh?'

'Only to me. But I'm just good that way.'

I chuckled at that. She was doing wonders for my nerves. I hadn't realized how wound up I had gotten over getting a simple puncture to my nostril.

I smiled. 'Uh-huh. Well to be honest I'm still undecided about inking my body permanently for the rest of my life.'

'Well when you make it sound all negative like that o' course its gonna sound like a bad idea.'

'It's a life altering idea.'

'Only if you make it feel heavy like that.

'Well how is it supposed to feel?'

'Like somethin' beautiful, fun, and personal. Or ya know stupid if you're into doin' reckless shit.'

I pursed my lips and looked away.

'So you up for it?'

I look at the image on the wall and imagine it branded on my skin, drawn so beautifully against the plains of my back and ribs. I open my eyes and look at the woman in front of me.

'Lets do it."

She smiles and gestures for me to follow her.

'So just out of _random_ curiosity. How's your threshold for pain?'

I thought of child birth, Sue Sylvester, and watching Finn Hudson's failed attempts at dancing…

'Pretty high, I guess.' I smiled at her. 'Does that answer your random question?'

She smiles back. 'Ya know, I think it does.' She said winking.

I chuckled. 'Good. So who do I see about _all this_?' I gestured.

She leads me to the back of the room where a reclined leather chair sat in the center of the room. 'Me.' She opens a few drawers and begins pulling the necessary supplies out.

I looked at her, shocked. 'You?'

'Yeah. Somethin' wrong? And here I thought we were bondin' so well.'

I shook my head. 'No its not that. I was just expecting-'

'A scruffy bearded dude in a leather vest with tats all over his body, a body that unfortunately smells like sweat, motor oil with a subtle hint of urine?'

I stared at her wide eyed and shook my head mutely.

She perks up. 'Oh good because no one like that works here.'

I laugh.

'So why do I get the feelin' like that wasn't the issue?'

'There's no issue. I-I guess I just wasn't expecting someone so…_young_.'

She quirks an eyebrow but doesn't look up from gathering the supplies. 'How young do you think I am?'

'Uh my…age?'

'And you're how old?'

'18.'

'Oh well that's different. I'm 19 so I'm not that young.'

'You're not that old either.' I point out.

'Thank you. Nothing a girl likes to hear more than that she's too young for menopause._'_

I giggled and she smiled.

'See. We really are bondin'. We can swap childhood stories, share hobbies, I tattoo your gorgeous back, you pay _me_ back, and then I crack a joke and boldly ask you for your number. See. Bondin'.

I laughed and held a hand to my mouth. She was hilarious. Oh my-

Wait. My number? Was she—

…oh.

_Oh_.

'Caught that last part huh? Damn I was hopin' I could sneak that one in ther'.' She snaps her fingers.

'Nope. I heard it.' I laugh

'So that adorable laugh was a yes right?'

I smirked. 'Let's just see how you do on my back first…' I trail off.

'Wow. No pressure or nothin' Way to make a girl sweat.'

I grin as I lay my chin on the leather head rest. 'Its kinda part of my charm.'

Oh my _God_ I was flirting!

Stop it Quinn. You're straight, remember?

Reinvention, remember?

Oh my God! You're considering?

Maybe.

But you're straight. Remember that baby you had like a year and a half ago? Remember Finn? Puck? Sam? Freaking Michel Sherry in the 5th grade?

Yeah well I only dated Michel because his name reminded me of—

Ugh! Ya know what? Fine. Go be merry and _gay_ in a fricken wheat field for all I care. Just think before you do anything else life changing today, alright?

Yes mom.

Ungrateful bit—

'You alright there blondie? You're awfully quiet.'

'Yeah just fine. Got lost in my head for a second but I'm all good.'

'Kay. I'll be sure to send a search party next time I don't hear from you for too long.'

I salute her and she chuckles and gets back to work.

An hour later the buzzing from the pen shuts off and I hear the gentle clang of it being placed on the metal tray. 'There. Done. Looks mighty fine if I do say so myself.'

'Really?'

She nods. 'Actually I was talking about your back but the tat's nice too.'

I shook my head and smiled. She reached for a hand mirror on the table and angled it so I could see from my laying position. I smiled at the image.

Perfection.

'I love it. Thanks so much.'

'No problem, sug.'

I got up gingerly and walked over to the full length mirror and lifted up my shirt and twisted my body around to get a better view.

Sweet.

'How'd I do?'

I smiled at her through the mirror. 'Great. It looks amazing.'

She looks at my reflection for a moment and nods. 'Yup. Sure does.'

I don't really think much of what she said and tilt my head to side, considering her work. I really did love it.

'Well at least its not a gargantuan rendition of Jesus.' Shudders. That portrait in my old room gave me nightmares.

'Could be worse I guess. I coulda tattooed Ryan Seacrest's face on your lower back.'

I look over my shoulder at her and smirk. 'And here I thought you liked me. Some friend you are.'

She chuckles and guides me back to the leather chair and gently applies the gauze pad on top of my newly inked skin.

'You wanted a nose piercing right?'

I nod. 'Yup.'

'Alright. Let me put this stuff away and we'll do it here in just a minute.'

'Take your time.'

She cleans everything up and throws away all the necessary trash in an orange recycled can.

The piercing was done pretty quickly and the next thing I knew I was at the counter paying for my new modifications. I was a very happy customer. In the end the brunette and I did end up exchanging numbers. That is, until I remembered one vital piece of information that's usually necessary when building a friendship. Silly me.

'Oh sorry I didn't catch your name.' I felt like an ass. A royal ass. I can't believe I went this long in this establishment without finding out her name. Though in my defense, its not like she was wearing a name tag.

She smiles and hands over my phone. 'The name's-' …"Q! Get your fat ass down here now! I'm tired of waiting for you. Five minutes of my life is now _gone_ because I'm stuck down here waiting for your ass cheeks to jiggle merrily down those steps! Darse prisa, bitch!"

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my bag and keys and went downstairs.

"Whoa. What's up with your face?" Santana questions, pointing her index finger in my nose's general direction. And let me tell you, my nose did not like being pointed at.

"I don't know. What's up with your breasts?"

"They're filled with awesome. Stop avoiding the question."

"I'm not avoiding anything." I shoot back.

"The fuck you are."

"The fuck I'm not."

"Then where…" She steps closer to me and inches her index finger dangerously close to my nose. "did the hardware come from, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes and glared at her finger. "Get your hand out of my face." I stated calmly.

She smirks amused. "Its not in your face, it's on my hand."

I ground my teeth together. "Then get what's on your hand out of my face."

"Not gonna happen."

"Don't make me punch you in the boob." I threaten.

She laughs. "You'd like that wouldn't you? But with your luck you'd probably wind up with your fist bouncing off my bodacious tatas and smacking you right in the face."

"Or I could just bitch slap you in the mouth." I offer with a lying sweet smile.

"Or I could yank that pretty ring outta your head and make you swallow it."

"Oooh now you're just getting gross."

"Well I gotta catch up with you don't I? You're starting to look like a dirty all-American hippie reject."

"How does that make me gross?"

She shrugs. "Hippies give me the creeps. With their long skirts and their John Lennon glasses and Native American inspired fashion sense." She shudders.

"Now you're just messing with the stereotype. I look nothing like that."

"Oh. Its coming. I can already see the signs. Why else would you need a new look? You've become a child of the flower haven't you?"

"Shut up. You're insanity is beginning to show."

She waves me off. "My hotness is showing. Your bitch is hiding. Give me something better than that."

I rolled my eyes. We argued for awhile longer until Santana finally pulled into a space in the mall parking lot.

"Besides most of them were high off their asses. How could they possibly know how badly they were dressed?"

Santana rubs her chin in contemplation. "You got yourself a good point there Q."

There was a lull in the conversation.

"What were we bitching about?"

I shrug. "No idea."

"Can we go to the mall now or are you guys gonna kiss and make out? I'll stay if that's what's going on."

Santana looked at Brittany. "Its kiss and makeup Britt."

"But there's still kissing right?"

I roll my eyes as Santana looks horrified and shakes her head. "Uh no. Never. A hundred times no."

"Not in this life time…unless I'm drunk."

"Hey close your thighs Q. I'm already taken."

I roll my eyes and groan. "Can we go now for the love of God?"

"Ooh careful there goodie goodie. Wouldn't want the Big Guy to smite you down with another stork delivery." She chuckled. Brittany looked irritated.

"But I thought you said that the stork was on vacation on a sixth month cruise to the Caribbean?"

"Uh well I-"

I giggled in my hand and got out of the car. Thank you, Brittany.

So I have this theory and I'm going wide on this so pay attention.

You listening?

Good.

So I have this theory. My theory is that this whole New!Quinn idea wasn't just going to cut it for this year. It couldn't just stop at a new haircut, a few new body modifications, and an out of character dye job and then cease to evolve. It didn't feel like enough to me. It felt like merely changing my appearance was only the first step to a road untraveled. I needed more.

But what?

I've already cut my hair. I've enhanced my physique far beyond what its ever looked like before. I've scheduled an appointment with Santana's mother to come to my house at 4:30 in the afternoon, the day before school starts so no one would have any opportunity to see me in all my pink glory. _And,_ I'm being dragged to the mall where I'll use that time to go shopping for my new wardrobe. I had plans, as you can see.

A part of me groaned at the thought of being stuck shopping with Santana for the better part of the day. Another part was slapping my whiny inner self upside the head. She was better than nothing. Sure Kurt would have probably come in handy on this journey of self discover in my closet –I mean, helping me with a new look…but I hardly spoke to Kurt. There was no way I could bring myself to just call him up and ask for a favor I had no right in asking for. Its not like I had forgotten the things I had done to him and I very much doubt he has either. I may not have verbally abused him or slandered his sexual orientation but I never stopped the abuse either and that was just as bad. Worse, actually. So in conclusion, I was left to suffer and endure Santana's dirty jokes _and_ her never ending innuendos _and_ her constant whining _and_ her big ass head. Oh yeah. I was in hell.

So what was missing?

"Tell me again why I'm following _you_ around the mall like I'm your bitch."

I groaned softly. Here we go again.

"Cause its funny. I seem to remember..._quite_ _clearly_ that we were going shopping for _me_. Not you." She points.

I repress the urge to roll my eyes for the thousandth time that afternoon. I was getting a headache. It's a frustrating pressure on my brain that I know oh so well. Santana was a huge whine bag but after years of knowing each other, I was used to it by now. Unfortunately.

"And I repeat, because I need a new look." I try and appeal to her better nature: her larger than life ego. "And because you're a better shopper than I am. You're look is awesome." I hate her clothes. "You're easily the best dressed female I know." Not true.

"This is true." She smirks and taps her chin, as if thinking it over. Ugh. So vain. Though why am I complaining? I have my moments too. I'm So Pretty/Unpretty comes to mind.**  
><strong>  
>"Sanny. We gotta help Quinn. I mean look how awesome and tight her ass looks in those jeans." The blonde gestures to my butt. I quirked an eyebrow at that. I'm not denying it. It did look fabulous. I'm just not used to hearing Brittany cuss. It was weird. "We gotta make her look even better. Sorry Quinn." She looks at me. "I loved your dresses but they were kinda boring." Brittany looks so remorseful that it makes my heart ache. I smile and hug her.<p>

"It's okay Britt. I thought they were kinda boring too."

She beams at being forgiven and tackles me with a hug. I laugh.

"Well well well. If it isn't my favorite inner fat girl."

I smiled, immediately recognizing the voice and turned around. "Hey Lauren."

The teenage wrestler saunters over, each step oozing attitude. I seriously need to learn how she does that. I have the 'bitch in charge' walk. She has the 'bitch don't mess with this or I'll cut you into bite size pieces' walk.

She stops in front of me, and looks me up and down. "You look ripped, Fabray. You've been working out." She wasn't asking, she was commenting. I smirked smugly and flexed my bicep. Lauren looks impressed and uses her index and thumb to inspect its density. She nods approvingly.

"Nice guns, babe. They're almost as good as mine." I laugh and poke her arm, nearly breaking my finger when I misjudge the speed of my finger and the thickness of her bicep. Okay ow. I shake my hand and she smirks.

"Whoa. When did you get those? These weren't in Sylvester demand." Santana looks in awe and squeezes my bicep. I smirk at her shocked expression. Lauren chuckles. Santana squeezes again and I flex my arm between her fingers, making her eyes widen.

"Maldita girl. You're beast."

I grin proudly. "I know."

"Like seriously." she steps closer to me and squeezes again, then lightly caresses my arm. I raised an eyebrow and inch away from her.

"Um okay. I think that's enough groping for you, thanks." I bat her hand away.

She pouts but removes her hand.

"So how's your summer been Lauren?" She shrugs and raises her hand in a 'so so' manner.

"Boring. I can see yours has been more eventful than mine. Whatcha been doing anyways? Roids? Bench pressing Aretha? Roids? Have you been pushing your car to work? Come on. Dish."

"Um I ate all my green veggies and drank my milk like a good little girl."

"Yeah if hadn't heard that story from my folks half a million times. Seriously."

I shrugged. "Took self defense classes and kick boxing lessons at the rec center."

"No shit." Lauren says surprised.

"Mmhmm. I can subdue an assailant in less than 2 minute. I've been timed." I grin happily and Lauren smiles bumping my shoulder.

"You gotta teach me a thing or two ya her me?"

"Of course."

Santana butts in between us and holds up her hands in our faces. "Okay hold up! Since when are you and the Pillsbury dough bitch friends?"

"Since the Prom elections."

"But why? She like totally murdered any badass reputation you had. Why do you like her?"

I shrug. "She's honest. She's a tough bitch and she doesn't call me a repressed lesbian every ten minutes." I look at her pointedly.

"Oh yeah. I'm due aren't I?"

"Point proven. And besides that last part she's just like you.

"Ew. What an awful thing to say Q." she blanches.

"It's true."

She crosses her arms. "No its not."

"Sanny be nice. Lauren's kinda cool. In a scary kind of way."

Lauren smiles and nods her head in thanks to the blonde.

"Whatever." The Latina exhales grumpily.

I turn my sights back to Lauren. "You wanna hang with us? We're mostly just wandering until I find something that I simply have to buy immediately because I may or may not live without it."

Lauren grins. "So a normal day at the mall?"

I nod. "Yeah pretty much."

She shrugs. "Eh why not. I've got nothing better to do."

"Don't get too excited." I teased.

"This _is_ me excited."

"Well remind me never to get you elated or otherwise joyful. I don't think I can handle it."

She grins and bumps my shoulder. "Shut up twinks. Just because you got yourself a nice set of guns doesn't mean you can just mouth off to me. I can still pummel you into mush."

I laugh.

Santana groans.

"I think I may vomit." she grumbled, not happy at all with the new arrangement of Lauren hanging out with us.

"Well just don't do it in your hand. Remember what happened last time." I smirked.

Her lips curled in distaste. "Bite me."

"Maybe another time."

Santana shakes her head and stalks off into the nearest store without waiting for us to follow her.

We weaved in and out of stores for the next half hour with little success on my end. I found mostly jewelry that I really liked and a badass bomber jacket that was fit for a female. It was beautiful. But obviously this wasn't enough for a full wardrobe.

Though I can't complain about my lack of success because Santana and Lauren were having no trouble at all; which was the problem. They seemed to be in competition with each other to find me the best look. A part of me was scared for what would happen if I was forced to choose the winner but the other part of me was too damn amused to care. I giggle when Lauren chucks another top on Santana's head as the Latina reaches for a shirt that Lauren apparently had her eye on.

Wow.

Oh my god.

Did she just bite her?

They better not get blood on my new shirt. Because that one is definitely going in my closet.

"Hands off sand bags! Ain't nothin' gonna get in the way of this jelly."

The teenage wrestler woops in triumph once Santana lets go. Nice. I nod my head approvingly. That's actually really cute. Lauren has good taste.

I quirk an eyebrow as I notice another top that Santana had picked up off the ground, it had fallen off the rack during the girls' little hissy fit. Maybe 'hissy fit' was understating it a little.

Lauren slings her newly reclaimed prize over her shoulder with the others and turns her attention to the Latina. She perks up at the shirt in the girl's hands and snatches it before Santana can comprehend what's happening. Lauren slings that top over her shoulder, smiling smugly and Santana unsurprisingly lunges at her. Lauren holds the girl away from her by palming her forehead at arms lengths, looking absolutely bored with the situation. Santana flails angrily for a moment and then inches her face up and bites Lauren's thumb, making the girl shriek. Lauren snarls and Santana growls again at having her foot stomped on for the third time since being in the store.

I smirked. Lauren plays dirty. Then again so does Santana.

Why don't they get along, again?

"Perra! I saw that first. I will so go Lima Heights Adjacent on you. Don't think I won't, puta!"

Oh right. They're both crazy. Now I remember.

"Quinn." I turn and face Brittany curiously. "If Santana and Lauren rip all your clothes and stain them in each other's blood does that mean you'll have to go to school naked?"

I give her an odd look and shake my head.

She smiles sweetly and wraps her arms around me from behind, hooking her chin over my shoulder. "Because I really wouldn't mind.

I chuckle and pat her head, placing my other hand over hers that were over my stomach.

"Not gonna happen Britt but thanks for the reassurance."

"Any time." She nuzzles my neck and I giggle.

My giggles however were short lived when I was finally approached by the manager and asked to remove my friends from the store immediately. I sighed and asked politely if I could at least pay for the clothes first and she said that was alright. She glared at Lauren and Santana, demanding that they wait outside, preferably on the other side of the mall. I snorted at that but agreed.

After an hour of this I thought it a good idea to stop and get something to eat. The four of us split up and grabbed food from our respective locations and then conjugated at the table Brittany picked out, the table that just so happens to be conveniently located next to Build-A-Bear.

"Thanks for coming with me guys." I said, taking a bite of my Chinese food. Who knew watching feral cat fights all day worked up such an appetite?

"Welcome!"

"No probs Tinkerbelle."

"Whatever."

I smile and stab another piece of mandarin chicken with my fork.

Santana takes a sip from her soda and studies me for a few minutes. I ignore her staring and just continue eating my food and making small talk with Lauren. But it soon becomes apparent that Santana can't hold in what she wants to say for too long. "So I gots ta ask." She starts, slamming her cup down on the table. "What's up with you lately? You're horrible personality has done like a complete 180. You don't get all red when I make a dirty joke and you actually participate. What the fuck?"

"What's wrong with me making a lewd joke every now and then?"

"What's wrong is that you _never_ make one. You're such a prissy little princess that you have to stand on top of a chair whenever anyone utters the word penis in your company."

I snorted. "No I don't."

"Do too."

"You're over exaggerating.

"I'm really not. Now fess up. What's the deal?"

"There is no _deal_." I use air quotes. "I just like annoying you. What better way than to mess with your head. And by the way, what I said last night was funny."

"What did you say last night, Quinn?" Brittany tilts her head with a curious expression on her face.

"Yes tell us what you were doing Ms Rubs Her Bits A Lot." Santana smirks, crossing her arms smugly.

I stare back unfazed. "Actually to be precise I was poking myself not fondling. Very different."

She furrows her brow, giving me a look that said, 'did you seriously just say that'. "And that's better than what I said _because_…"

I lift an eyebrow. "Because I was doing this…" I reach over and poke the side of her boob.

"Ow! Goddamn it Q! What the fuck was that for?"

"Questioning my poking skills." I shrug. That came out dirtier than I intended.

"You're mental."

I smile wide.

She points at my face. "You're just proving my point. Now stop it. You're freaking me out."

I was enjoying this way too much. I grin more. "Nope."

"I mean it Q. Quit it." She glares.

"Whatcha gonna do about it Lopez? Threaten me with your hair?"

"I'm thinking about it." She says through gritted teeth.

"Well don't think too hard. We wouldn't want the pressure to burst those water balloons."

"Hey! Leave my luscious cans out of this!" She points threateningly.

I smirk. I poke her boob again and Santana bats my hands away.

Brittany giggles. "Its like you have a jello mold in your bra." Brittany's face goes blank. "Can I eat it?"

Santana's face goes red at her question. "No! My bra is not…my bra is not filled with jello." She side whispers.

I bust out laughing. This was too good.

"Oh shut it blondie!"

"Make me." I shot back. I don't know what had gotten into me. I was used to challenging Santana as was she to me but this felt different. It was almost playful. Which was just…weird. Me? Playful with Santana? What the fuck?

"I hate you." She seethed.

I smiled, thoroughly pleased with myself. "I love you too."

Brittany bounced in her seat and waved her hand in the air. "Me too!"

Lauren rolls her eyes at all of us and stands with her tray. "Well as much fun as this conversation is, I think I better gets a move on."

I frown but nod. "Kay. Thanks for your help today Lauren. See you at school."

She salutes. "No probs, twinks. See ya later ladies." She looks at Santana. "Gentleman."

Santana busts out of her seat and I have to forcibly hold her back by the back of her shirt and arm. "Why you-"

I sigh and dump all of our trash and then bend over and gather all of my purchases. "You guys ready?" Brittany beams and nods.

"Yup yup!"

"Whatever."

"Wonderful." I smile at their responses and lead them out of the mall.

When Santana and Brittany finally dropped me off at home, I kissed Brittany's cheek through the open window and waved to Santana. She waved half heartedly while Brittany grabbed both sides of my cheeks and planted one right on me. I stood stunned until out lips parted and Santana pealed out of my driveway in attempt to get Brittany's lips far away from mine as possible.

I shook my head and went inside. Thankfully my mother wouldn't be home for another 2 hours so I was free to put away all of my new clothes without my mother asking questions and demanding to see what I bought.

By the time I had everything put in its proper place and all the bags and tags thrown in the trash cans out back, it was time for me to cook dinner. I decided on something quick since I was kinda tired from the long day. I decided on spaghetti with meatballs. Italian was Momma's favorite. I whipped it up quickly, ate my portion, cleaned up my mess and wrote a note for my mother explaining that her dinner was in a tubberware container in the fridge and then headed to bed.

I wondered how long I could go without my mother asking about how my mall adventure went.

She was sure to have more than a few words for me once she saw my purchases. We were already on a more subdued form of communication since I got my piercing. I didn't have the heart to show her my tattoo so I pretty much lied to her about that. I just couldn't tell her and not for the reasons you might think. I wasn't afraid of getting caught. I was afraid of what she might see. It was too personal. It felt like a secret I had to keep to myself. What lay there was mine to know about; nobody else. Besides if she were to see it, it would do more damage to our already fragile relationship than I could live with. I couldn't tell her. So in an insane, justified way I was protecting her, I guess.

She cried when I came home from New York with all my locks sheared off. She stared at me confused when I asked for kickboxing lessons and she literally stared me down and then turned and walked away from me when I got my nose pierced. As I look at the bottles of Funky Flamingo Pink and Off with Her Head Red, I wonder how many more changes I can go through before she finally says something to me.

But I can already foresee her reaction to that one.

She's going to kill me.

…I smiled happily.

* * *

><p><strong>Good? Bad? Was it horribly wretched and made your eyes bleed to read? Well if it did than that would make for an interesting review huh? Speaking of reviews...*hint hint* XD<strong>


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